


Lonely People Get Jealous Easily

by ElleF



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Butt Slapping, Choking, Crack, Crack Fic, Dom/sub, Dominant Peter Lukas, Established Relationship, Funny, God these two suck much I just wanted them both to suffer, Hate Sex, I need y'all to know that this is strictly crack, Is a messy kink a thing??, Jealous Peter Lukas, Jealousy, M/M, Messy Kink, Nikola Orsinov uses they/them pronouns, Pain Kink, Peter is invisible for most of this, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Submissive Elias Bouchard, The Web Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), as long as you know what avatars are you're good, oh yeah also, semi spoilers for season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElleF/pseuds/ElleF
Summary: Peter wanted to, he wanted to… yell, or push papers off of Elias’s immaculately organized desk, or just. Fucking. Throw him off balance for once. Perfect, prim Elias. He wanted to make Elias hurt the way he had. Peter wanted to fucking… to fucking… to fucking… fuck him. Peter’s growl of frustration died in his throat as he realized exactly what he was going to do to Elias. He was going to fuck Elias into submission.ATTENTION: THIS IS A CRACK FIC!! PLEASE ENJOY AS THE PIECE OF COMEDIC LITERATURE IT IS!!!!!
Relationships: Elias Bouchard & Nikola Orsinov, Elias Bouchard & Simon Fairchild & Peter Lukas, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Simon Fairchild/Peter Lukas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Lonely People Get Jealous Easily

Peter bit his lip as he studied his phone. He wasn’t too fond of his cellular device, but he had to admit this new boom in social media allowed people to feel more isolated than ever. Their self-loathing due to others’ perfect images on Instagram fed him, and their hatred of those hilarious Twitter celebrities made social media addicts easy pickings for him. Drawing insecure white boys in with the promise of blaming some random group or another for their own problems was easier than breathing nowadays. As his job got easier, however, he had more time for his attention to turn towards his dear Elias.

They had been doing this intricate dance for years, although sometimes it felt more like centuries, between him and the avatar of the Beholding. He wouldn’t call it falling; no, that feeling was reserved more for what went on between him and the Falling Titan, the Vast. But it was a creeping sort of… well, not love, exactly, because what (ex-)person claimed by one of the entities could feel love anymore? No, it was more like a… pull… a need to be seen by Elias for what Peter was, and the intoxicating feeling of being watched.

However, this time Elias had gone too far. Peter had thought Elias was well aware of what went on between him and Simon. Although Simon was a bit old for Peter’s taste most of the time, sometimes there was just an itch he needed to scratch that only Simon could help with. After all, even being claimed by the embodiment of fear left one feeling… a little unsatisfied in certain areas.

But, apparently, despite Elias’s all-knowing powers, he hadn’t bothered to check what was happening in his very own house, in his very own bed. Elias had come home from work earlier than Peter had expected last Monday, grumbling about how he was hungry, having apparently had an unsatisfying lunch. And Peter had, well… he had still been a little _busy_ with Simon. In fact, they had both been about to finish when Elias had opened the door and walked in on them. 

Peter couldn’t remember seeing Elias that surprised in years and, while he got a slight satisfaction out of surprising the man he had been off and on with for a couple of decades, that satisfaction disappeared when Elias’s face turned thunderous with rage. Simon pulled out of Peter faster than Peter could even sit up and, with a quick wink thrown to Peter, Simon saluted Elias and jumped out of the third story window, plummeting to the street of their quiet suburban neighborhood below. Peter didn’t wait around to hear the splat he knew was never coming and immediately jumped up, holding his arms up placatingly towards his current husband. 

“I swear, I thought you knew!” was the first thing he said. He knew it was the wrong thing to say the second he opened his mouth. _This is why I don’t fucking deal with people,_ he thought to himself savagely.

Elias’s bushy dark eyebrows lowered even further over his stormy grey eyes. He didn’t even dignify Peter’s exclamation with a response, just pushed past him and went into their bathroom. 

And Peter did what he always did when he faced conflict: he disappeared.

[-]

Peter had spent the better part of that week avoiding Elias, hoping he would just calm down. He had been the model husband, cleaning up all of their dishes and making sure to have dinner ready when he got home. Even if Elias never actually saw him, he must have known who was doing it. Elias knew how Peter got when faced with actual confrontation; he’d have to understand what Peter was doing!

But no, just like so many of his relationships, it ended because of his inability to talk to others. As evidenced by the Instagram picture Elias had just posted of him and Nikola Orsinov hanging out, captioned, “Got just a little too lonely by myself this week, had to invite this cutie out for a drink!” And the way they were cuddled up to each other, their head nestled on Elias’s shoulder… God it was enough to make Peter’s skin crawl. And Jane Prentiss was long dead, so he knew it wasn’t her. For the first time, he finally knew how it felt to have his heart broken over an Instagram picture. If he knew how to feel pity, he might have actually felt a twinge in his heart for those he had made hurt through social media.

Peter stared at the picture of his husband and that… disgusting mannequin creature for what felt like hours. He most definitely did not cry. If he stood up to get a box of tissues before settling back into the coziest armchair in their study, well, that was just because his nose had gotten a little stuffy. It was allergy season, after all.

[-]

Finally, after another day of moping, Peter decided he was tired of feeling bad for himself. He had been hearing a lot about this new concept of “self-care” lately and decided to buy himself a truly immense amount of chocolate chip pancakes as a treat. After settling into his bathtub with his syrup covered tower, he opened up his phone for a nice distraction. Without really realizing he was doing it, his finger clicked the Instagram icon and soon he was scrolling mindlessly through. He liked a picture of some flowers, arranged and posted by Martin’s account, and scrolled past a photo of Jared Hopworth’s new arm. Peter rather detested mirror selfies, and Jared practically only posted them. Peter was raising a forkful of pancake to his mouth when his idle scrolling led him to Elias’s most recent post. Elias’s most recent post of him and Nikola. Elias’s most recent post of him and Nikola posing on the London Eye. Not only were they enjoying the sight of London’s cityscape, Nikola was kissing Elias’s cheek. 

Nikola was kissing Elias’s cheek.

_Nikola was kissing Elias’s cheek._

The plate of pancakes, which was precariously balanced on the bathtub’s ledge, toppling into the perfumed water with a mighty splash as Peter stood up. He muttered to himself as he furiously dried off and pulled on a pair of boxers. 

“ _He never took_ me _to the London Eye. Said it was too_ 'cliche.' _Well, who’s cliche now, hmmm? Too cliche my arse. He just didn’t want to be seen in public with me. He’s_ embarrassed _of me. Well, I’d say between the two of us, a revolting bag of sawdust is probably more embarrassing than a perfectly acceptable wealthy middle aged man. How dare he bring that_ thing _with him on a-- on a fucking_ date _. I’m his_ husband _! That should be_ me _up there,_ me _. Not some bloody disgusting queen of the unknown. I’ll show him just how unknown I can fucking be. I’ll show up at his work right now and I’ll fucking-- I’ll fucking--_ ” but Peter never finished describing what he’d fucking do, as he pushed through the door of Elias’s office in the Magnus Institute. 

[-]

Elias looked up slowly from where he was reading over papers and sat at his desk, although Peter still refused to be visible. He was, after all, still only wearing boxers. Elias still knew it was him, though. Elias always knew it was him.

“Hello there, sweetheart. Have you finally decided to stop being petulant and come spend time with me again?” Elias’s smug tone wound its way around Peter’s shoulders, and Peter felt the tug to be with him again, to be _seen_.

Peter unconsciously leaned towards Elias, not that Elias could tell, and opened his mouth, hoping to say something that wasn’t just his usual passive aggressive, sly tone.

Peter wanted to, he wanted to… _yell_ , or push papers off of Elias’s immaculately organized desk, or just. Fucking. Throw _him_ off balance for once. Perfect, prim Elias. He wanted to make Elias hurt the way he had. Peter wanted to fucking… to fucking… to _fucking_ … _fuck_ him. Peter’s growl of frustration died in his throat as he realized exactly what he was going to do to Elias. He was going to fuck Elias into submission.

Peter’s voice dropped low in his throat as he slunk his way toward his husband, keeping himself invisible. “Oh, did you miss me, then? I couldn’t tell, what with how much you were hanging off of that _whore_.” Peter’s hand shot out and grabbed Elias around the neck. His whole body shivered with excitement as he recognized the look of surprise on Elias’s face. He increased his pressure on Elias’s neck, forcing him to bend backwards over the armrest of his opulent desk chair until the back of his head hit the pile of papers he had been reading over earlier. Elias sputtered at the sudden contact and he tried to wheeze out a reply, but Peter tightened his hold until Elias finally fell silent and glared up at him, breathing heavily. 

“That’s better,” Peter smiled down at Elias, although Elias still couldn’t see him. “It’s my turn to talk, alright? No more words from Mr. Villainous Monologues over here.” Peter forced Elias’s head harder onto the desk, grinding his hair into the ink covered papers. “Oh, look who’s a bit of a mess,” Peter cooed, smirking down at his husband, clearly uncomfortable in this position. Peter reached down and brushed a dark curl, slick with hair gel and sweat, out of Elias’s face. “Prim and proper Elias, never a hair out of place. Well, look at him now. A sweaty, disgusting _mess_.” 

Elias trembled as Peter said “mess,” and Peter’s smile grew even wider. “Oh, now this is _interesting_. Do you like being called a _mess_ , Elias? Does that make you feel _dirty_? Do you feel out of control, Elias? Do you _like_ being out of control, dear?” Peter injected “dear” with as much venom as he could. 

Elias stared up at him with wide eyes. His pupils were dilated and his chest was heaving, although Peter had stopped holding him down with much force a few minutes ago. If possible, Peter’s grin grew wider, and he shook Elias’s head back and forth gently. Elias went willingly, his head lolling to either side as he let Peter steer him how he wanted. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Peter whispered emphatically. “Look at you. So willing to do whatever I want. All because of a few little words. All because I called you-” Peter leaned down to whisper in Elias’s ear- “a mess.” 

Elias moaned at that, his mouth opening slightly and his tongue going out to wet his lips.

“So, now, I think the question remains, what should I do with you? I know you want to kiss me, I mean just _look_ at the look on your face. So desperate, you’re practically _begging_ for it. So tell me, what do you want?” Peter lessened his grip on Elias’s throat so his hand was barely more than a light touch. Light, but grounding.

Elias swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he searched for words. “Want… want to see you,” he said hoarsely.

“Mmmmmmm, good boy,” Peter praised, stroking Elias’s hair. “Good job answering me. Now, as to your request… I suppose I could be persuaded to do that.”

Elias’s eyes went round with hope, emulating a begging puppy. 

“Yes, I suppose I could do that. But I’m going to need you to do something for me first.” Peter's voice was still low and as smooth as honey.

Elias nodded emphatically.

“Good boy,” Peter murmured, “still not speaking until I ask you to. Wow, you’re being such a good boy for me right now, aren’t you? It’s funny how you can be so good right now and yet have been so bad the past week.” Peter slowly began increasing the pressure on Elias’s neck again. “Running around with that _mannequin_. Hmph! As if they could ever do this with you. As if they could ever _hope_ to see you like this. Tell me, Elias, who do you want?”

“You,” Elias gasped out.

“Me? Hmmmm, well, you could’ve fooled me. You’ve been a bad boy, Elias, a very, very bad boy. Now, do bad boys get what they want? Do bad boys get to see who they’re fucking? I don’t think so. I think bad boys get punished.” Faster than a mortal could blink, Peter flipped Elias over so he was pushed face down onto the desk. He pulled Elias’s pants down just enough to see his bare ass and quickly delivered five slaps on each of Elias’s ass cheeks. 

Elias let out a long, low moan, drool already beginning to drip down from his lips and pool on his precious papers. He was breathing hard and pushing forward slightly, trying to get friction on his freed cock. 

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Peter growled and hauled Elias up off the desk. Elias’s pants fell around his ankles as Peter hauled him into his lap. Peter sat down in Elias’s lavish desk chair and pinned Elias against him with one hand on his throat and one hand across his stomach. 

“Now, Elias,” Peter smirked as he watched Elias dick, already red and full of blood, bob in front of him, “touch yourself.”

Elias immediately began jacking himself off, with all the finesse of a drowning man reaching for shore. 

“But, Elias, remember,” Peter sneered, “you can’t come until I tell you.”

Elias whined but was quickly cut off by Peter tightening his hand around Elias’s throat.

Peter watched Elias stroke himself for a while, muttering words of encouragement whenever it seemed like Elias’s interest was flagging. He called him a _dirty, disgusting mess_ and praised him for doing so well so far. Finally, when it seemed Peter could no longer ignore his own erection, nudging against Elias’s ass, he ordered Elias to stop. 

“You were so good for me,” Peter murmured as he pet Elias’s sweat-soaked hair. “You did so well, touching yourself and never coming. I think you deserve a reward. I am going to fuck you now.”

Elias’s entire body trembled at those words and he let out a long, low moan.

“Yes,” Peter hummed, “I’m glad you’re excited.” Peter stood with Elias still pinned to his front and squeezed Elias’s ass, slipping a finger in between them and feeling for his hole. Peter smiled at what he felt there and once again bent Elias over the desk so he could work his butt plug out. 

“Have you been keeping this in here all this time? Just in the hope that I would come fuck you? Hmmm, very presumptuous of you, no? But I guess it worked out. I mean, at least you’re already all stretched open and ready for me, huh?” Peter couldn’t quite keep the fondness out of his voice as he slowly pulled the buttplug out of his husband and placed it on the desk next to him. Peter pulled down his boxers, kicking them off onto the floor next to the desk. As he pushed two fingers in just to make sure Elias was ready, Elias spoke.

“Can I… please?”

Peter grunted in annoyance, but let it slide. “Can you what? Use your words, darling.”

“Can I please see you?” Elias’s head was bent at an awkward angle as he tried to look over his shoulder and see Peter. 

Peter looked down at Elias, all laid out before him. His body was wrinkling the papers Elias had worked so hard to order correctly in piles on his desk and his normally pristine dress shirt was stained with spit and sweat. He considered Elias’s request for a moment, thinking about how good he had been staving off his own orgasm, but then he remembered the fiery pit of rage that had dragged him over here in the first place. “Oh, do you think you’ve been good enough? You think your punishment is over? You think that makes up for you… _cheating_ on me? Hmm… I don't think so.” And with that judgement delivered, Peter slapped Elias’s right ass cheek and kneaded it, pulling it away to make room for his cock to enter Elias.

Peter pushed his dick in slowly, teasing Elias. Once his cock, which was no small thing, was about halfway in, Elias started begging.

“Please,” he moaned, “please, I need more, I need your dick inside of me, all of it, filling me up. You feel so much better than the butt plug, please, I need it!”

“Oh, you _need_ it,” Peter smirked, continuing his slow push in. “You _need_ all of my cock inside of you? Well, WHAT ABOUT WHAT _I_ NEEDED, HMM? I NEEDED A HUSBAND THAT WASN’T GOING TO CHEAT ON ME, BUT LOOK WHAT I HAVE: A DISGUSTING, MESS OF A _BOY_ BEGGING ME TO FUCK HIM. YOU WANT TO BE FUCKED, HUH, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? THEN HERE!” And Peter snapped his hips, burying his dick deep inside of Elias’s ass. 

Peter set a ruthless pace, fucking Elias deep. The slapping of skin on skin filled the office, and Peter was sure the sound echoed down the hallway. Elias was whining, whimpering in the face of this onslaught, but Peter kept going. One of the upsides of being tied to an entity of fear was the truly deep well of power you could draw on to help you terrify people. Or, you know, to fuck them into submission. 

Peter fisted his hand in Elias’s hair and ground his head into the desk. He was panting, fucking Elias faster and deeper than he ever had before. His truly punishing pace was so viscerally satisfying that he felt like throwing his head back and howling. He was claiming Elias’s body for his own, and he bit down on Elias’s shoulder, losing himself in the sensation of Elias’s body taking all Peter could give him. Peter covered Elias’s back in hickeys, sucking and biting along his shoulders and down his spine until finally Elias looked back at him with wide eyes, begging. Peter knew he was asking to come. 

Peter bared his teeth in a smile he knew Elias couldn’t see and whispered, “Yes, you may come.”

Elias threw his head back with a wild, keening moan and arched off the desk as he painted the floor and the underside of his beautiful, expensive, mahogany desk with his cum. 

Peter fucked him through his high, never once stopping his vicious pace. Finally, Elias’s dick was spent and twitching against his thigh, and he relaxed, boneless against the desk. 

“Oh, no, you can’t relax yet.” Peter slapped Elias’s ass hard to yank him back to earth and Elias blinked blearily up at him, completely exhausted. “Get on your knees,” Peter ordered, pulling out of Elias’s ass. 

Elias obediently sunk to his knees, looking slightly confused.

“You wanted to see me? Well, here you go,” Peter snarled, revealing himself to Elias. 

Elias blinked in surprise, going cross eyed as he stared down the shaft of Peter’s cock.

“Open your mouth,” Peter growled.

Once Elias had dropped his jaw open far enough, Peter shoved his dick deep inside. Elias gagged almost immediately and tried to pull back, but Peter grabbed the base of his skull and forced Elias to take all seven inches of his cock. Elias sputtered, spit dripping down his chin and making his once white shirt even more disgusting. Peter drank in the sight of Elias on his knees, his dress shirt barely covering his spent, soft dick and his nice work slacks pooling around his ankles. Elias’s belt rang out against the floor as he swallowed around Peter’s cock. Peter fisted Elias’s hair and closed his eyes, moaning low and deep as he came down Elias’s throat. 

Elias swallowed all of Peter’s cum, choking it down like he was born to do it. Peter sank into Elias’s desk chair, his bare, sweaty ass sticking to the leather. Elias continued suckling on Peter’s dick until Peter pulled him off, hauling Elias up to join him in the chair. When Elias sat sideways, there was just enough room for both of them. 

Peter smoothed down Elias’s hair, stroking it back from his face and holding him as close as possible. Elias’s dress shirt was most likely ruined forever, but he still nuzzled his way under Peter’s chin. Exactly where he belonged.

[-]

Many miles away, in a house on Hilltop Road, the woman once known as Annabelle Cane--but who now belonged only to the Web--sat back in her chair. She smiled to herself, satiated, just like her two marionettes she had just finished playing with. How would either of the two men ever have guessed that Elias not being served his correct sandwich at lunch on Monday could have led to this?

**Author's Note:**

> Also, yes the office door was open the entire time. Good thing Elias always knows who’s coming ;)
> 
> I was playing fuck marry kill with my friend and she said she would marry Peter bc he would hate it and kill Elias but I argued that Elias would hate being fucked more than dying so here we are. These two are awful and deserve to be unhappy together.  
> I went OFF and wrote 3k words lmao anyway thanks Lillian for renewing my creative spark and making me get the urge to write again.
> 
> Follow my friend's Elias Bouchard hate blog on Tumblr @ihateeliasbouchard  
> Follow me on Tumblr @astroelle  
> Follow me on Twitter @everelle17


End file.
